All who call this planet home are impacted by a warming climate. But our most vulnerable, particularly women and girls, are disproportionately affected. And although women may carry the burden of weathering storms (and tsunamis and droughts and all events that result from a warming planet), they are also the first to embrace earth-friendly policies and practices as they (and their families and communities) are literally on the front lines. Seeing our way forward to a sustainable future can only be realized when the leadership of women and girls is encouraged and valued.
Give thanks with a grateful heart, give thanks to the Holy One …
The children practiced their song repeatedly in the fellowship hall. The adults, gathered in the kitchen assembling Thanksgiving food baskets, didn’t mind listening to them. It had been a while since the struggling church heard children’s voices within its walls. The sound not only brought smiles to wrinkled faces, but a few tears as well to cataract eyes.
U.S. Air Force Chief of Chaplains Maj. Gen. Steven Schaick, a Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) minister of Word and Sacrament, has announced his retirement, effective July 2.
During the Gathering as One online conference of the Presbyterian Church Camp and Conference Association (PCCCA), leaders from around the United States and Canada explored how to enhance intergenerational connections in their outdoor ministries, where everyone — young participants, adults, families and entire church communities — could learn together through a shared faith experience.
That onetime staple in every youth pastor’s toolkit — the Polaroid scavenger hunt — is getting a makeover and making a comeback.
And during a pandemic, no less.
Hardly a day goes by without the Rev. Brad Munroe receiving a call from someone wanting to make a donation to help Native Americans in the southwestern United States, many of whom are struggling to cope with poverty and the weight of COVID-19 and its economic fallout.
Every morning when I walk, I see the signs that remind me: We are surrounded by a great cloud of caregivers, too often invisible to us, though our well-being and that of our loved ones and communities is dependent upon their work and their commitment to their mission. When COVID-19 swelled to pandemic proportions this winter, most of us locked down to protect ourselves, but nurses, techs, chaplains, doctors and support staff remained at their posts without adequate personal protective equipment or knowledge of the scope of the virus, still serving the sick and the infected, knowing as they did that they were putting themselves and their families at risk. All paid a high cost, and some gave their lives. In nursing homes and elder adult living facilities, and with hospice and in-home care workers, the warning signs that kept everyone else at a safe distance did not prevent these caregivers from attending to the frail and vulnerable. Many of these essential workers could not have stayed home if they wanted to; as part of the nation’s vast informal economy, their ability to feed and house their families depended on the ability to show up, even when it meant risking infection. Many in this gig economy of caregivers themselves lack access to consistent health care … and still, they show up.
Yearning to break free from a life hindered by addiction, Lori Flick walked into Columbia Presbyterian Church in south-central Pennsylvania almost seven years ago and found a place of refuge.
“I think a lot of people were like ‘Who is this girl?’” she said. “I was skinny as heck. I looked like I was ready to rob the place,” but “I just got to know everyone. They gave me hope. They gave me Jesus. They gave me my self-worth when I didn’t have it.”
When New York City started closing down in mid-March because of COVID-19, the Rev. Patrick O’Connor at First Presbyterian Church in Jamaica had two prayers.
“Lord, help me to be healthy,” he prayed, “and if I’m healthy, help me to be useful.”
